RPlog:Thrask at the Cantina
With freedom from Caspar attained, it would be easy to think that Sandor would quit while he's ahead and simply go back to the New Republic and face the music for becoming a rogue agent. It would be easy, and it would be the furthest thing from the truth, as with an uncertainty over Ai'kani's fate having been in place for so long, Sandor grows ever more certain of the most likely outcome. After all, Sandor himself had barely made it off of Coruscant with his life, even with extensive military training on escape and evasion. Stepping inside of the seediest cantina he can find in a brief search, given the sheer risk of moving around in the open on an Imperial-controlled world, Sandor pushes as much as he can of his past out of his mind for the time being. His task is set, and even if it claims his own life, he knows that he won't stop until it has been completed. Suspicious eyes dart from the traitor around the room, looking for weapons both concealed and worn openly, as well as any faces that don't quite 'fit'. The quarren defiantly doesn't fit. Armored and ready for something bad to happen at any time. He nods to his companion and looks up again as someone fills the entrance yet again. Though this time he sees someone he knows from his past. Not exactly someone he was hoping to meet. A grimace crosses his face as the human enters the cantina, and an old war His face covered by his helmet, courtesy of his enhanced armor set, Alois cautiously enters the cantina a minute or so Sandor alongside several other beings. He did not want any curious eyes to know he was working with Sandor, especially as his bodyguard; he was his own man, probably a bounty hunter or merc of sorts, here for some much needed rest in the form of alcohol. Alois, however, was not much of a drinker, and his intentions were far from getting wasted. Tugging at his dirty trench coat worn around him, he keeps his eyes on Sandor as he makes his way inward while Alois himself motions towards the side of the room, trying to remain as unsuspecting as possible. He takes an empty seat towards the back, but makes sure it provides him with a good sight of Sandor. He'll be ready to act within a moment's notice if he was needed; hopefully the situation did not get such a way. Indeed, Thrask doesn't quite fit in the midst of a cantina of Imperials and scurvy types who have taken to associating with that lot; no more so than a man with a thirty five thousand credit bounty would, in fact. It doesn't take more than a few seconds of searching for Sandor to notice the Quarren, but instead of anger, malice, or distrust, he silently marks the creature as in fact the least dangerous threat in the room. After all, the terrorist reasons, the alien has had plenty of changes to turn Sandor in, or to simply do him in, and has not gone the extra mile since Caspar. Of course, Sandor hadn't egged him on since then, either. "I wonder which of us is crazier," Sandor informs Thrask without preamble, as soon as he's near enough to say so without drawing too much undesirable attention. Even with Alois as a backup, craziest man of the lot, Sandor is more than prudent enough to know that he won't be able to accomplish much in the way of revenge if he gets blown apart by an overzealous bomber, along with a good deal of the dregs in Corellian society. "Me for being here, or you for wanting to be." Thrask grins a toothy grin, lacking in any real happiness to see the human at all. He eyes the man for a moment, but does not stir in his seat. Instead he motions for the man to sit at the table. "We both know the answer to that." He says as his caf arrives at the table, setting the other mug in front of Thrask human companion. "Looks as though your face has healed nicley." He comments with a smirk to the man. Thrask eyes the man again, as if to glean why he would be here on Corellia. He had seen the news cast where Sandor was running from the authorities on Caspar. "I assume you are not follow orders from the New Republic. I can't say that I am that surprised." Alois silently watches as Sandor confronts Thrask, the Quarren. Sight of the alien brought a smile to his face, but he quickly did away with it and leaned back against the wall his seat was up against. His head-set provided him with all the information he needed at the moment. With it, he could listen in on Sandor and Thrask's little discussion, as Sandor's own comlink was transmitting everything to him. But, while his ears would be listening, his eyes were all around, scanning the entire room for any possible threats that may come Sandor's way. After all, the Imperial turned Chiarn activist turned Imperial turned Republican turned terrorist had certainly built up quite a reputation for himself, one that a keen bounty hunter or law enforcement official for the Empire would most certainly be interested in cashing in on. After a thorough scan, he set his eyes on Thrask himself, analyzing the Quarren, his defensive and offensive capabilities. Anything concealed, anything glaringly obvious that he was missing. All of it would come in handy should things turn violent. "Why would I be doing that?", Sandor asks, genuinely confused as he seats himself. It takes a second or so before it clicks that Thrask couldn't possibly know that Sandor had managed to get himself discharged from the Marines, through keeping silent about various things that would have saved his career, and maybe even made him a hero. And completely ruined his reputation, and kept him in a life in which a bureaucrat can decide whether or not he deserves to live or die, or even have the material and trained comrades to stand a chance at the former. "I got a medical discharge, I'm not part of the.. the Corps anymore," the traitor quickly stops himself from saying anything that might link him directly to the Republic. Thrask, alien and victim as he is to Sandor's past, at least isn't interested in getting involved with Imperial authorities again. At least, if Sandor's judgement as to whether or not Thrask is a rational.. person? is correct. "Why indeed..." He comments to himself as the human answers his questions about his current affiliations. Like he had said though, it was not surprise that the man could stay with the New Republic. Thrask didn't trust him then and he doesn't now. The human had given him little reason to change his mind. "What brings you to Corellia? Considering your reputation with the Empire I would not suspect this to be the best place for you to hang around. Was Caspar getting a bit too hot?" He asks. Probing for something from the man to affirm what he suspects after seeing the news broadcast. Sandor shakes his head, either ignoring or not really noticing the fact that Thrask doesn't seem to trust him. "Not hot enough. I'm tired of dancing around the point, so I came here to the source," he admits, neither chuckling nor looking especially proud of where events have taken him. Eyes dart over in the direction of the bar, and then over toward Alois, making sure that the man is still in place, just in case things get ugly, or for that matter, in case they don't. "I'm not gonna make the same mistake twice, if I live long enough to get the chance," Sandor adds, in a bit quieter, but no less candid a voice. "I see." Is all the quarren says at the moment as he follows the humans gaze to the heavily armed man at the bar. He eyes the man for only a second. He looks back to Sandor and his lip thin a bit as he continues to wonder at the mans goals. "So now that you are out of the Marines, you taking the fight back to your former employers?" Thrask looks again back to the man at the bar, it looked as though the man might be watching them, but it was hard to tell with the helm on. Sandor might have been able to sneak through the Empire without much fear of getting killed a few months ago, Alois muses. But not anymore. Grinning behind his helmet, Alois simply continues his observation. He catches Thrask's curious glance his way, and he figures Thrask is a bit suspicious of his motives. But it's not like it mattered much, in the end. Alois would serve his purpose here, whether or not Thrask knew what his purpose was or not. To keep up the impression he was just a simple man, though, he raises his hand and waves towards the barkeep. "Corellian ale." Following the creature's gaze to where his own eyes had been a moment beforehand, Sandor nods, and keeps his voice low as he replies, in a well-founded fear of the armored man, if not the bounty hunters that are likely amongst the Cantina goers as well. "I wanted to stop the war. Failing that, I'm gonna bring the war to places they don't want," the rogue agent firmly states, not especially sure of just why he's admitting any of this to his former kidnapper; Mikassa syndrome has never been recorded as taking place so long after the fact. Indeed, all Sandor had really wanted to do was see if he could find a few malcontents, and exchange a bit of information. "Lofty goals." He states plainly to the human. "I never though of bombing social events as a smart was to end the war." He says without emotion. He hopes that the man will confirm his suspicion about Sandors involvement in the bombing on Caspar. The man has always been a mystery to Thrask, and now was no different. "But why here on Corellia. The local CorSec has been working hard to strengthen their security." "I had nothing to do with that," Sandor shoots back defensively, his voice raised a bit, but still kept in check and very far from shouting. After all, losing his temper here might not mean his life, but it would mean the end of his ability to move and gather information with relative freedom. "My targets are individual elements of bureaucracy - which is why I'm here. CorSec can say all it likes about clamping down, but they're still an Intsec wing, and I know those like the back of my hand." For the first time in the conversation, Sandor looks smug, almost proud, but he quickly shakes this off his face. "I don't care if it kills me, someone's got to do it," he adds, back on track with the 'lofty goals', as he steals a suspicious glance toward Alois. The quarren nods at the man, unable to believe everything he is saying at the moment. "Well, I am not completely opposed to what you are doing. My goals here are not much different. Just keep an eye out for people who might be looking to collect on your bounty. Corellia is swarming with bounty hunters and organized crime syndicates that will be eager to make a quick buck." Thrask looks back to the man at the bar, eyeing his weapons and stance. "Though that one there might scare off the meek of the lot that might try." Thrask stands then, looking from Sandor to the man at the bar again. He smiles at the man and bows slightly. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend, some would say. I should be going now, not smart hanging around here much longer myself." "You're right," is all Sandor will say on the subject of the organize crime rings on Corellia - and in fact on the subject of leaving now, as well. Fortunately, the former is not so much of a concern to the would-be assassin, provided that his contacts in the underworld don't get wind of just what he intends to do. Or, more specifically, who he intends to kill. "And they'd be right to be scared, that one there has a foot in his grave," he confirms, knowing all too well that Alois is hearing every bit of at least Sandor's dialogue, and likely some of Thrask's as well, via the headset. "See you again, when we get there, Thrask." As discreetly as he can manage, Sandor stands, and looks for a different exit to the cantina than the way he'd entered from, before moving. Alois did his best to ignore Sandor's witty comment. While he seems fixated on a group of females over across the bar, his eyes track Sandor and Thrask behind his helmet. The drink he ordered came just as Sandor and Thrask were leaving the Dig, and since Alois couldn't actually drink the beer due to his helm and the fact that Sandor was out the door now, he simply stood up and followed after his comrade, trying to catch up and get back to the safe house. Thrask at the Cantina